A regular stage race is a series of back-to-back runs over a number of days, covering a marathon distance or more. Probably the best known example is the Marathon de Sables, a 156-mile slog broken down over six days across the Sahara. Runners take on four days at marathon distance, one day of double marathon distance and a half marathon on the final day.

Other stage races tend to be less gruelling, just the small task of consecutive marathons.

Im not quite ready for the desert yet, so Ive devised my own version of the stage race. Instead of taking on two marathons over two days, Im attempting to run 31 half marathons in 31 days during December. Yes, even on Christmas Day.

Lets put that in context with a few numbers. Thats 406.1 miles, or 651km. At a nine minute-mile pace Ill be looking at more than 3,600 minutes of running. Beside the sheer endurance, my main concern is time. Fitting this in around work and Christmas is going to be tricky. The plan? Plenty of 6am starts, running into work on an extended route. While its dark. Maybe while its snowing.

To make things interesting Ill be throwing in some curve balls like the Santa Run and doing one of the half marathons at altitude at the Altitude Centre in London.

The pre-December Challenge fitness test

Before kicking off, I thought itd be wise to get an idea of how fit all this running has made me. So I booked in for a V02 Max test at Fit.as, experts in preparing people for endurance events and partners to the Human Race series.

After a year of five marathons, four ultras and a lot of time on my feet youd think Id get a glowing report that would tell me I couldnt be in better shape to take on thirty-one half marathons. I was brutally disappointed with what I found out.

1. I have very slow metabolism. I burn around 1,500 calories just being alive and thats fairly low.

2. I get most of my energy from carbohydrate, even at rest, rather than from stored fat. This is the opposite of where I need to be as an endurance runner.

3. I have 14% body fat. Which, if my maths is right, means Im lugging around 12kg of the stuff.

4. Contrary to what I thought, I have a ridiculously low aerobic threshold. I basically hit it when my heart rate reaches 80bpm. To put that into context, thats a fast walking pace. This, needless to say, is not ideal for endurance.

5. This combination of a slow metabolism, and the quick switch to burning glycogen rather than fat that happens due to my low aerobic threshold, means if I stopped running tomorrow Id gain weight quite quickly.

Ill post more on the test itself, the results and what I can do to change my endurance profile over the coming weeks as I get to grips with the detail. At the end of the December Challenge Ill also be heading back for a second test to see what impact this level of running has on my overall fitness profile.

But for now Im off to set my alarm clock for 6am.

Kieran will be running the December Half Marathon Challenge supporting the Starfish Greathearts Foundation, raising money for AIDS-affected children in South Africa.

My stomach is sending signals to my brain. It wants to leave my body. Or at least it wants my body to eject whatevers left of the eight carb gels, seven flapjacks, one bottle of Lucozade Sport and two bananas Ive eaten in the past seven hours.

Im 63 kilometres into my first 100k ultra and from where Im sitting, head down on a formica tablecloth, its going horribly wrong. Aside from struggling with the imminent vomiting, my brain is repeating only one thought. Not You cant do this! Its worse than that. Its saying You dont want to do this.

As the negativity courses through my veins and Im about to throw down the Camelbak, I remember something a friend told me. Theyd just finished the London Marathon in record time and wound up semi conscious in a St Johns ambulance.

Its so weird, I recall him saying. When youre in bits like that the last thing you can even think about is eating something sweet. Its a horrific notion and a cruel trick but the thing you desire least is the thing thats going to cure you.

I lean into my bag, grab a gel and force it down through waves of nausea. Ten minutes later Im back on the course, rocking out nine-minute miles and feeling like a new man. Not just because the 100k is back on, but also because Ive learnt a valuable lesson about myself and about endurance running. You must keep eating.

Throughout the 13 hours and something minutes (the time is somewhat less important than finishing), I constantly discovered new things like this about what it takes to go the distance. It was one long, live, learning experience.

The lessons I have learned wont be the same for everyone. Thats part of the beauty of ultra running, everyones 100k journey is different. But heres some of the wisdom I picked up as I completed the Thames Path Challenge. Hopefully theyll work for you too.

Eat savoury

Gels, energy bars, bananas and sugar-laden sports drinks are good up to a point but after five hours I couldnt bear the sight of a flapjack and the very thought of taking a gel turned my stomach. But you still need to get the 80g of carbs an hour to keep you going, not to mention something to help replace the salts. Id always been afraid of eating something like pasta during the run. Surely it would be too heavy once you got back on the move. The reality was quite the opposite. Some simple plain penne healed me at the half way mark. Watery soup is another great option, giving you a fluid and salt hit in one.

Using rest stops saves you time

Rushing a rest stop is a false economy. What you do at each of these checkpoints will dictate your race. Taking your time to sit for a while, eat solids, take on water and get some moral support from friends, family and fellow runners is essential. The extra five minutes you spend hitting the reset button will keep your pace even when you get back out on the trail.

Sweat the small stuff

Deal with little niggles early or they'll grow out of control. Shoes too tight? Sort it. Small rubbing sensation on your heel? Stop and reapply Vaseline. Bag sitting uncomfortably? Fix it. If you dont, these are the things that threaten your ability to finish at mile 59.

Plan your rewards

When youre literally running from dusk til dawn you need something to help drag you on. For me this means having family and support at each of the checkpoints along the way. But you also need rewards to lift your spirits out on the course. Find something that works for you, it could be anything from a one-minute break and a stretch to a clean pair of socks.

Double packing

Speaking of spare socks, packing clean kit is another smart thing to do. When you hit the rest stops, a complete change of clothing really helps you hit that reset button. Make sure its kit you can rely on, preferably a like-for-like with the gear youve worn already, just clean and dry.

Speak to other runners

At the start of the Thames Path Challenge, the race announcer made us say hello to the solo runners around us. Making friends early is a smart move that pays off later on when youre at a low ebb and you need moral support. Its remarkable how much other runners can give you that boost when you need it most.

If you feel sick eat.

As I found out at 63k, when your stomach goes its time to eat. It sounds crazy but that churning stomach is a sure sign your glycogen stores have been decimated. The last thing on earth you'll feel like eating is a carb gel but it will fix you.

Running 62 miles is not natural. That's what most people will tell you when you reveal you're about to cover 100k from Putney to Henley for the Thames Path Challenge.

They quickly become overly concerned for the health of your knees and your mental health. "Is everything ok?" they ask. "What the hell is wrong with you?" they enquire. "Just why in the hell would you do that?" they demand.

I don't agree with them. I'm not worried about my knees. I buy into the school of anthropology that says we were once all running people. That it's in our blood. Centuries of evolution have made my body the perfect running tool and my knees are safe, provided I use my body right.

As to the question of my mental health. Well, that's a different story. Wanting to run 100k in a day may well make me crazy. But I'm about to do it and I wanted to share what I've learned readying myself for the task.

It's important to point out that I'm not a personal trainer, a running coach or even a fitness expert. I'm just an ordinary guy learning what it takes to become an ultra runner as I go. My theory: if I can do it, so can you.

So, if you fancy joining me in ultra distance looney land, here are six questions I've had to answer along the path from marathon to ultra.

100km ultra training: How to train for ultra distances

1. How many miles should I run when training for a 100k ultra?

Forget the miles and focus on time on your feet. I've only averaged 150 miles per month in 2013 and my runs vary from 10k to 20 miles, with the odd marathon thrown in. You can keep your short runs fast but slow down your longer runs and clock up those hours padding out the distance. When you're seven hours into the 100k and you're running at 12 minute-miles your feet will thank you.

2. How long does it take to train for a 100k ultra?

Look at this like a long term project. Unless you're already running 200 miles per week, dont expect to be able to cover 100k on just a couple months' training. My preparation for this started in January. Since then I've been building my distance slowly, tackling different types of race to build mental strength. So even though I haven't done lots of intense training in August, I've spent nine months laying the foundations for a September race.

3. What's the furthest I should run in training?

The longest distance I've covered is 44 miles, three months prior to my 100k race day. Beyond that I've done one marathon distance in August for the Adidas Thunder Run.

4. How do you overcome the self doubt?

Belief is everything. In the past nine months I've learned a lot of lessons about self confidence. When you toe the start line at 6am for an ultra you will have doubts, just as you did for the first half or full marathon. It's natural and the adrenaline is a good thing, but having experience  good and bad  to call on as a confidence booster is vital. Test yourself in your training runs. Put in a big hill at mile 13, stay on your feet for an extra half hour, even though you feel like you're done. When you survive your belief will rocket.

5. What should I eat for an ultra?

During marathons you'll get away with taking carbohydrate gels. On races over five hours they get harder to stomach. Learning how to get other types of fuel down without your body going haywire is vital. Use your longer training runs to try out different foods and drinks, and when you need to top up. The aim here is to keep up your energy levels and ensure your salt levels stay on an even keel, avoiding the dips that'll make the race more difficult.

6. How do I prepare mentally?

There's a popular quote about endurance events. "It's 90 per cent mental. The other 10 per cent is all in your head." This isn't just a neat phrase, it's entirely true. Your preparation needs to be mental and physical. Learn to anticipate the tough bits but don't fear them. Think about how you're going to deal with the tiredness. Eventually you'll recognise the feeling and be far more likely to push through the fatigue when it inevitably arrives.

The demons decline

What do you get if you take eight strangers, drop them in a field in Derbyshire and ask them to run for 24 hours, through the barriers of endurance, exhaustion and sleep deprivation, taking in sweltering heat, thunder and lightning and pitch black darkness.

Dont get me wrong: the loneliness was there, particularly for those who opted to run solo, completing as many 10K laps in the 24 hour time limit as their bodies could sustain. But I was in a mob of eight and enjoyed one of the most impressive team efforts Ive ever experienced in sport.

The walk of shame

Our tactics were simple: keep one runner out on the 10K cross-county-cum-trail course at all times from 12pm on Saturday to 12pm Sunday. Past results suggested the winners would come in somewhere between 30 and 34 laps.

Our team had mixed abilities  from seasoned ultra and marathon runners to complete newcomers. More importantly, at least half our number  myself included  had never run in the dark. Nevertheless we felt we stood a good chance of finishing fairly high up the rankings. (In the end we finished 7th out of 253 teams; a worthy effort.)

I set out second, in torrid heat  and at a blistering pace. Seasoned ultra runner Tobias Mews had put in a sub-40 10K lap before me and as he handed over the baton, I felt the pressure. I managed to pull off a 45-minute lap. A fairly average time for a 10K on tarmac, but the Thunder Run route consisted of an undulating mixture of steep trails, wooded switchbacks and farmers' fields.

Unfortunately, on my second lap, soon after, the combination of the terrain, the unforgiving 30-degree heat and my over-zealous first circuit took its toll. With barely 5K down and just three hours into the 24-hour race, I found myself doing the unthinkable. I walked. That was the low point.

I wasnt due to run again until 1.50am and around 6pm the thunder came, the heavens opened and the course turned into a chocolate mousse mudtrap.

So when my next stint arrived at 2am, after just three hours broken sleep in a rain-battered tent, I was facing a very different challenge. Not only was this the first time Id ever run in the dark with a headtorch  the conditions were now treacherous. Crawling out of a tent at an ungodly hour and putting on wet socks to go running was the smallest of the battles I was about to face.

Putting in the nightshift

Running in the dark in torrential rain ought to be unnatural, but I loved it. In fact, my two night time laps turned out to be easier and more exhilarating than my earlier shifts.

For one thing, you dont notice how steep the hills are when you cant see. You barely even notice youre pacing up an incline. You also run how you feel, rather than keeping tabs on the watch. Then theres the freedom it gives you. The mud, rain and knee-deep puddles made the whole thing far more entertaining. Its the closest Ive been to that exhilarated abandon you run with as a kid. A brilliant experience.

There were moments where I felt the fatigue-induced loneliness that putting in 26.2 miles in 24 hours with almost no sleep can bring. In fact, this race turned out to be a challenge that let me sample the full gamut of emotions. At times it was too hot, too bright. Later it was too cold, too dark, and too muddy.

At times the lung-burn from running too fast was a killer, other times the pressure that comes with expectant comrades was too heavy. But when our entire team cheered our last man across the finish line after 24 hours and 33 minutes this became one of the best runs Ive ever done.

If you fancy trying the Adidas Thunder Run in 2014, you can register your interest at adidas.com/go/allin24.

Being an ultra runner isn't just about using mind and body to cover distances most people consider humanly impossible. You need to master planning and logistics, too. As I'm rapidly finding out, perfecting your pre-race prep and your kit list is as essential as the work you put in during training. From where you sleep and what you eat to which shoes you lace up, everyone has their own methods for creating perfect conditions come race day. However, with two ultra events under my belt, I'm still learning the ropes. Here's what I've discovered works for me so far.

Sleeping: Range Rover Sport 2013 Autobiography aka The Tent

A lot of ultra runners like to immerse themselves in their surroundings, opting to camp close to a trail race start rather then stay in a hotel. But camping doesn't have to mean canvas and flysheets. For the Marathon du Mont Blanc I made a brand new Range Rover Sport Autobiography my Alpine basecamp. With the back seats dropped down, the boot had ample room to sleep my 5' 11" frame while the 12V charger meant I could juice up my GPS watch and my phone the night before the race. The built-in chiller cabinet also meant I could keep my carb gels cold and the seat-mounted screens hooked up to a TV tuner and DVD player provided perfect distraction the night before the race.

On the road from £67,995

Technical Support: The Samsung Galaxy S4 Active

The new Active has all the top-end smartphone tricks of the Samsung Galaxy S4 but with added toughness, making it suitable for taking on the big outdoors. The S4 Active's fully sealed design fends off dust and water to depths of 1m; the TFT (thin film transistor) LCD screen drinks less juice to provide a longer battery life; and the physical Menu, Home and Back buttons make it simple to use while pelting down Alpine trails.

Emergency Power: Brunton Ember Hybrid Solar charger

A back up power source when you're forced off grid is a must. This solar-powered pack is optimised for use with smartphones and comes with a space-saving 3-in-1 interlinked chain of adapters  mini, micro USB and Apple connectors. It's also water resistant and weighs just 141 grams, so if you think you might need more power on the trail, you can run with it.

Jacket: Adidas Terrex Jacket and Trousers

A waterproof jacket is a mandatory piece of kit for most ultras, but bearing in mind you have to carry this with you on the course, you want something weather-proof but lightweight. The Adidas Terrex Active Shell jacket is both. With durable Gore-Tex waterproof and windproof protection, it's ideal for a mountain run where temperatures can drop suddenly  and at just 360 grams it folds up small enough to fit comfortably into most running bags.

Compression Shorts: HPE Formula 40 Compression Shorts

In my experience, there are five key considerations when you're choosing top and bottom base layers for an ultra  weight, warmth, breathability, sweat-wicking and anti-friction. These dual-purpose shorts are ideal long runs and can aid recovery post-ultra. The coverseam stitching protects your important parts from nasty rubbing while the soft breathable nylon and spandex offer support and comfort in the best possible way  you hardly notice they're there.

The Trail Shoes: Salomon XR Crossmax 2

Knowing the terrain you're tackling and choosing the correct footwear is often the difference between finishing and flaking out. The two races I've completed so far were a mix of trails and tarmac so a road-trail all-rounder was necessary. The Salomon XR Crossmax 2's combine technologies from road and trail shoes. You get comfort and cushioning on harder surfaces, then durability and stability once you hit more shaky terrain. They also boast easy-fasten laces which makes slipping them on and off far quicker, should you need to do some urgent foot first aid.

X-Socks RunSpeed Two

Cotton socks are a no-no. Instead, you need to find a pair of specialist running socks. The X-Socks range have been designed with protection, support and breathability in all the right places. With blister-preventing toe-tip protection to a patented X-Cross underfoot ventilation system, these are the ultimate long distance socks.

The hydration pack: North Face Enduro Plus Flight Series

Most ultras require you to have a method of carrying at least one litre of water as part of the mandatory kit list, so finding a good hydration pack is vital. At my stage, where I'm still fine-tuning what I eat and how often, I've found this slightly larger two-litre North Face bag a real winner. When it's half full you've still got plenty of room to stash gels, energy bars and even additional sports drinks. Neat little touches like anti-slosh technology, zippered hip-belt pockets and a magnetic clip for securing the drink tube are also a bonus.

GPS Tracking Watch: Suunto Ambit Saphire 2

Once you hit the ultra distances, battery life becomes key. You're also likely to need extra tools like an altimeter to tell you how far you've climbed and a compass to keep you heading in the right direction on an unsupported run. The Suunto offers all of this with a 16-hour battery life and heart-rate monitoring. Its large screen is easy to read on the move and the controls for jumping between data sets and functions are nice and straightforward. The ability to lock the screen and buttons is a lovely touch, giving you the security that there'll be no accidental pausing while you're rummaging in your bag for an energy gel.

Challenge 3

Trail run. Done. Altitude marathon. Done. So what's next? It's time to take on a different kind of demon and see if I have what it takes to run right around the clock and through the darkness of a Derbyshire night. For my next challenge I'm taking on the Adidas ThunderRun - a 24-hour race.

The closest I've come to running in the middle of the night was last week when I landed in Portland, Oregon and went straight out for a run despite my jetlagged body thinking it was essentially 3am. That was at least daylight.

This weekend's ThunderRun will be a very different beast. It's a 24-hour off-road relay race where teams of anywhere from two to eight people run right around the clock, completing as many 10km laps as possible. One runner must be on the course at all times and they must complete full laps of the cross country circuit. Other than that it's entirely up to the team to decide how far and how often each runner spends out there. The tactics alone are baffling.

I will be running in a team of eight. Until two weeks ago we had all the hallmarks of a team who would be out to simply soak up the atmosphere. Pressure-free running  albeit pushing our limits, fighting sleep deprivation, muscle fatigue and taking on the dark. That's all changed. I've now discovered I'm running in a team of very gifted athletes and the ominous words: "We might be able to win this", have been uttered. The pressure is back on. I'm not just competing my first ever 24-hour ultra. I'm in a team who want to win. This is terrifying.

I'll be running alongside guys like Simon Freeman, who is a 2:37 marathon runner, his wife Julie Freeman, an experienced ultra athelete, and Tobias Mews, who recently completed the Marathon de Sables. These guys are good. And I'm going to have nowhere to hide.

Preparing for a 24-hour race

The Adidas ThunderRun is all about fast 10ks and faster recovery between stints. So after a few months of getting my body used to running long, slow, high mileage, I've switched to putting in fast 10k runs.

With eight people in the team of varying capability, my guess is that we'll be looking at an average of 40 minutes per 10k lap. That means our team can complete around 36 laps during the 24 hours. If that's accurate, I'll be required to do 4.5 laps with 4.5 hours between each lap. This should be well within my capacity. The only unknown is how I'll cope when it's 3am, dark and I'm asked to head back out for my lap.

I've never run with a headtorch before. I've never run in the dark before. And I've never run after no sleep for 19 hours before. So with a little under a week to go until the race, I'm planning on a day where I run 10k into work, another 10k at lunchtime, one home from work, and then a final stint in the middle of the night. This should replicate what I'll be facing on Saturday and Sunday.

The full Monty

Do people really go hill running for fun?

That's the question that keeps scrabbling its way to the forefront of my mind as I fight my way up a second monster climb, 33 kilometres into the Marathon du Mont Blanc 2013. Its the second of five challenges on my mission to enter the world of ultra running, and I'm starting to wonder what possessed me to do it.

My first challenge  the Classic Quarter 44 miler, which took me up and down the Cornish coast  has prepared me well for the terrain underfoot in the French Alps, but it doesn't even come close to the brutality of the never-ending steep climbs  thousands of metres above sea level  thorugh which I'm earning my altitude stripes.

To put it into some context, it takes me around two hours to cover the first 21km, about half the Marathon du Mont Blanc. That's a fairly respectable marathon pace. However, the next six kilometres  the first climb from 1,260m up to 2,201m  take me an hour and a half.

Over 2,000 runners tackle the Mont Blanc course, taking in the woods, valleys and mountains bordering Chamonix and beyond. Ninety per cent of them are equipped with hiking poles, put to good use on the steepest slopes.

Poles or no poles, only the fastest mountain goats run the vertical sections. Everyone else is forced to break into steady walk for the 1000m ordeals. It's like sticking the treadmill on the highest incline and pacing it out for the duration of a football match. All the while the amount of oxygen you can get into your lungs and to your muscles decreases with every ascending step. Other than spending months in the mountains, there's little that could prepare you for this.

By the time I reach the second big climb, 31 kilometers into the race, the clock has ticked on to over four hours. It's painfully slow going.

Drawing a blanc

According to my Endomondo GPS app, in the course of the race I cover a total ascent of 2,600m and a descent of 1,800m. The equivalent of climbing Ben Nevis twice. On the way, I also burn 3,345 calories and leak 3.5 litres of fluid.

It's vital to replace the salts you sweat out. Without the right salt levels your body can't absorb the water. Without the water, bad things start to happen. Halfway up the second climb I notice my fingers have swollen to twice their usual size. It's a sure-fire sign of dehydration. My stomach spins like a tumble dryer bringing waves of nausea that makes it impossible to eat and replace vital energy.

The combination leaves me in trouble. I sit down and take refuge on a shady rock. Proper dehydration affects your ability to make good decisions, and I'm unable to process what's going on. I start to think my race might be over. Recognising what your body needs at this point is crucial and I'm struggling to remember my own name, let alone make rational choices. It's only when a French woman strides past, slaps me on the knees and shouts "Allez! Allez!" that I come round and realise I have to change the picture.

I manage to get half a carton of dioralyte rehydration drink into my body and it's just enough to get me on my feet. Sheer willpower drags me into Le Flegere where I force down oranges, sports drink and bananas for the final 5km stretch up to Planpraz.

Three of the last five kilometers are thankfully flat. Or as flat as we've seen in hours. But there's one final sting in the trail. The last mile up to the finish is like climbing a wall. The steepness makes every single step a battle. Each pace digs deeper and deeper into well-mined willpower stores.

It's then that I begin to grasp the true nature of ultra running. It's about a bloody minded unwillingness to give in. Staring your demons square in the eyes and saying "Yes, I can." With 20m to go I break into a run and beat my chest involuntarily. I thought I came here to tame Mont Blanc. In reality, I've conquered myself. And that's even more rewarding.

This will be the steepest race I've ever run. The total climb for Mont Blanc is 8,238 feet, compared to 6,230 feet in Cornwall. Meanwhile, the descent is just 4,888 feet compared to the 6,122 I covered on the coastal run. All that squeezed into a shorter distance means one thing  big, bad hills. Just what you'd expect from Europe's highest mountain.

This is also the first time I've run at altitude. We'll start at around 3,000 feet and finish at an altitude of nearly 7,000 feet. According to Jack Daniels (not that one), a pre-eminent American running coach who has conducted altitude and performance-related research, going from sea level to 5,000 feet can reduce your pace by approximately 10 to 20 seconds per mile. You can also equate each thousand foot of altitude gain with running approximately one more mile on the flat. By my calculations that means I'm facing another 8.2 miles on top of the marathon distance, and doing it pretty slowly.

The winner of this race will cover the distance in under 4 hours. I'm looking at 6 hours, at best, and perhaps 9 if things go badly. But I'm trying to think positively.

The Cornwall run will serve me well and I've been out in Chamonix in the foothills of Mont Blanc for a week in an effort to acclimatise, spending much of my time as high as possible. It's the only weapon I've got against the hard impact running in the oxygen-light air will have on my body.

One big difference here is that I'm 'camping'. No comfy pre-race hotel bed. No kitchen to throw together an early pre-race porridge. I've spent the week sleeping in the back of a Range Rover Sport. Back to basics, away from the creature comforts of built-in DVD players and climate control. But then I am a technology journalist.

The rest of my preparation since the Cornwall run has focused on recovery. Short runs at easy paces to give my body time to repair. Most people would advise against taking on another endurance race so close to the last one, and I've had to be extra cautious not to overdo it. The furthest I've run is 12 miles on the flat.

Sunday will be a mental game. I know I've got the physical fitness, taming the white beast will come down to how I run the race with my mind.

Pacing past 26 miles for the first time is a baptism of fire  and lactic acid. Endurance-man-in-the-making Kieran Alger shares valuable lessons learned from popping his ultra cherry

The first of the five ultra challenges is done. The Endurance Life Classic Quarter 44 miler has been conquered. I am one step closer to making the transition from marathon man to experienced ultra runner.

Stung, drawn and quartered

The Classic Quarter course was even more punishing than expected. I went into the race fully aware that 44 miles of steep coastal ascents and descents would be brutal  and Cornwalls rugged cliff tops and coves more than delivered.

The terrain was a hellish mix. There were narrow paths no more than a foot wide, besieged by tall undergrowth. There were death-defying drops to beaches hundreds of feet below. There was deep sand and pebbled beaches; slippery rock descents into bays with hundred step climbs necessary to escape; shoulder-high tunnels of stinging nettles. There was a torrential rainstorm, which soaked runners for the first four hours of the course. For five of the last eleven miles we werent even running, we were climbing.

All that said, this was a truly awe-inspiring run. The amazing views of Cornwalls emerald waters and epic coastline did much to displace thoughts of pain and banish the mental demons.

In the end, I completed the course in 9 hours 21 minutes and 23 seconds, burnt over 7,000 calories and soaked up at least 3.5 litres of fluids. I finished a mere 2 hours and 13 minutes behind the winner  plenty of time to learn some very important lessons to take into my next race  the Marathon du Mont Blanc at the end of June. Here are my top five takeaways.

Ultra running tips: 5 Lessons from an endurance newcomer

1. Eat early, eat well

You cant run for nine hours without refuelling your tank but, as I found out, it gets progressively more difficult to get calories into your system the longer youve been on your feet. Eating more of your solid food stocks in the first half of the race when its easier to stomach is the smart way to avoid the bouts of nausea caused by attempts to cram down a peanut butter sarnie at mile 41.

2. Coconut water works

Rehydration presents a serious challenge. Water alone isnt enough; you need to replace lost salts, too. However, 12 hours of supping sports drinks would be an endurance test in itself, and even water becomes tough to stomach as the miles rack up. Step up Vita Coco coconut water. Its a great natural alternative source of salts and sugar. Its lighter on the stomach. And its a pleasant change for your battered palate.

3. Plan it, pace it

Good preparation is essential. Find out as much as you can about the course. It helps to know if theres going to be five miles of filthy rock climbing between miles 33 and 38 so you can pace your race well and conserve enough mental and physical energy. And, if necessary, hide some crampons during a recce

4. Forget the watch, run how you feel

Pacing is vital. Go too fast, too soon and youll fall off a cliff. Guaranteed. Run with a GPS watch, but dont glance at it too often. Counting miles and incessantly monitoring pace over such a long distance can get demoralising. Try to tune into what your body is telling you. Kick back when you need to and push on when you feel good.

5. Shortest doesnt mean fastest

The Cornish coastal trails threw up all manner of obstacles, with more than one route up and down the rocky hillsides. These choices can be deceptive: the shorter route often being the more technical. So, while running around the obstacles might feel like time wasted, it means youre not battering your knees or putting your quads under extra strain jumping on and off rocks, and youll be thankful of that over the long haul.

The Classic Quarter

This weekend I take on my first ultra running challenge  the Classic Quarter. The first of the five big tests I need to pass to earn my place in the ultra running tribe.

The Classic Quarter is a trail run to be reckoned with, taking in 44 miles of the Cornish coastline from the Lizard Point to Lands End.

The race combines seriously technical terrain with a total vertical climb of 4,200 feet. And thats just the ups. Throw in some quad-battering descents and the unpredictable weather coming off the pounding Atlantic swell below and youve got a beast of a challenge.

Finishing times for this race vary wildly. The winner typically paces home in six and half hours, while back markers stumble in after 13. Which is why this punishing run kicks off at 6.15am  to leave enough time to get back from the coastpath wilderness before darkness falls.

I dont want to be out there when dusk hits. For a man whos used to running 3-4 hour marathons, the idea of still plodding along for 13 hours is hard to stomach. If Im going to survive this race I need to get the 88,000 steps  give or take  done in under 10 hours. Thats the target at least. The reality, of course, might be quite different.

Ultra Marathon Training: Preparing for my first ultra challenge

So how have I trained? Well, in a word, badly. In April and May I averaged 130 miles per month, with only four runs over 20 miles: two of them marathons  Barcelona and Prague; two of them hill runs  the South Downs and Rio.

In between the long distances, Ive been running shorter 10km hill runs where possible. Ive focused on the downhill as much as the uphill, as its the unnatural action of braking with your quads as you descend thats the real enemy in an endurance hill race like the Classic Quarter.

However, with London being relatively flat, its not been easy finding places to get decent undulating miles in. So there have been times when Ive had to hamster wheel it up and down the same 200 metre hill for an hour in West London, much to the bemusement of the residents. Another lesson about ultra learned: you cant worry about looking crazy. Because the fact is, you probably are.

Overall Im aware that my training has been too light. Ideally Id have done a 30 mile hill run for confidence. But if you listen to the ultra experts like Dean Karnazes, Scott Jurek and Marshall Ulrich, you learn theres a point where the battle switches from whats in your legs to whats in the mind. This weekend, my point might just arrive a little sooner than Id like...

Keeping it ultra simple

"As long as you keep moving and keep putting one foot in front of the other, you'll get there." As the words hit my ears I can't help wondering: is that really the best insight I'm going to get? The man standing in front of me  stating what seems blatantly obvious  is endurance coach and six-time ultra runner Martin Yelling.

I'm at an Adidas Virgin London Marathon Parkrun event to quiz Yelling about what it takes to make the transition from regular plodder to ultra marathoner. Hes no ordinary runner. Yellings CV includes half a dozen ultras, two elite national duathlon championship titles, representing Great Britain at the world and European championships, a sub four-hour half ironman and a 9.14 ironman. In other words, he knows a fair bit about endurance.

Why then, I'm thinking, is he hitting me with banal truisms? But the answer is simple: he's absolutely right. As ridiculous as it might sound, that simple sentence sums up what ultra running is about. The ability to keep going. No matter what. Understanding  and respecting  this principle will be essential if I'm going to stride beyond the 26.2 mile mark.

But 'just keeping moving' is easier to say than it is to do. Fortunately, Martin has some more advice to help me as I begin my journey to ultra.

Martins mantras

1. Be a tortoise, not a hare

Forget about your marathon pace. Remember you've just got to cover X number of miles. That's the challenge. Dont try to break any records until youve got at least a couple of ultras under your belt.

2. Go mental

"You can prepare yourself really well physically but it's still going to hurt, and you just have to get your head around that fact. I think the big mistake people make is that they fail to do that mental preparation, so they end up disillusioned only five hours in, but they've still got five, ten, fifteen hours to go  Use these tips from endurance expert James King to fortify your grey matter against fatigue with endurance psychology.

3. Sweat the small stuff

"You have to be really aware of the small things, like your foot placement on the trail or the vaseline on your feet. This is particularly important for stage runs, says Yelling. When you finish a marathon you can just patch yourself up after finishing. In a staged ultra, a tiny blister not properly attended to on day one can ruin your entire race.

4. Refuel with real food

Having a much-practiced plan for what you're going to eat and drink is vital. I'd do a run that would get a little bit longer each week and I'd try lots of things. I still carried my gels as they're quick, instant, accessible and easy, but they weren't my primary source of fuel. Jam sandwiches are a good option, but experiment and find out what works for you.

6. Small bites

"Break the route up. Start in big chunks and make them smaller as the run goes on. Just get to the next field, to the next road, or the next section. Also, dont be afraid to take walking breaks. This is the time to munch on your snacks and recuperate.

7. Get the gear

"When you're out on a long trail the weather can turn quickly and you need to have the right equipment in your pack: warm clothing, layers, a jacket, some tape, some plasters, a small first aid kit, mobile phone, food and a map."

Keep on running

There is a sport where having your toe nails surgically removed is considered a sensible tactic. A sport whose champions gaze up at Mont Blanc and see a tiny hillock. A sport where enduring hours of physical agony is not only essential, but considered part of the enjoyment. The sport is ultra running. And I want in.

First things first: my credentials. I am  and this, I assure you, isnt false modesty  an average runner. I've never received any expert instruction, my form is far from perfect and I'm a long way from being competitively fast (3:12:58 is my marathon PB). Before 2009 I'd only ever run to keep fit for football and even then it was my least favourite part of training. The notion that running could be enjoyable had never crossed my mind; the prospect of attempting a marathon was nauseating.

Then I took part in a 10k race around London and, over the course of a single hour, everything changed. The atmosphere was an adrenaline rush I simply hadn't anticipated  it felt a bit like winning a cup final  and I was instantly hooked. I went home and immediately signed up for a half marathon. I've never looked back.

A few years on and I've completed eight marathons. I now run three or four times a week and in 2012 completed a personal challenge to run 2,012 miles over the course of the year. I am, quite simply, addicted to the endorphin hit that lacing up and pounding the pavements delivers. And like all addicts, Im now in search of a more intense fix.

Going ultra

The truth is, though Ive covered thousands of miles over the last few years, I've no idea what kind of strength you need to run, say, 100 miles in under 48 hours. And that's what I really want to find out: what does it take, physically and mentally, to be an ultra runner  and can a normal bloke like me do it?

With more and more people completing marathons, ultra running has seen a huge upswing in popularity. For many, 26 miles just isnt enough of a challenge anymore: despite costing over £2,000 to enter, the 156-mile Marathon des Sables has over four times more applicants than places. Books like Chistopher McDougall's Born to Run have helped explode the belief that humans aren't built to run long distances, while endurance machines like Marshall Ulrich continue to pull off feats that make the London Marathon look like a village fun run: in 2011, he completed a 3,063.2-mile transcontinental run from Los Angeles to New York in just 52.5 days. Ulrich is 51 years old.

So what makes these people different? Are they simply genetically gifted? Or can anyone, with the right physical and mental training, be an ultra marathon man? Over the next 12 months Im going to find out. From training techniques to advancements in fitness tech, nutrition and endurance psychology, Ill be consulting experts and sharing everything I learn along the way on this blog.

So whether you're a wannabe ultra runner or just in search of a bit of motivation, I hope you'll join me on my journey. Feel free to use the comments to ask questions and get involved. The challenge of ultra running is 90% mental, and the other 10% is all in our heads," according to ultra runner Ray Zahab. In which case, Im going to need as much encouragement from you as possible

About This Blog

T3.com editor Kieran Alger attempts to transform himself from recreational plodder to ultra marathon man, running through all the tech, training tips and nutritional know-how he picks up along the way.
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About The Authors

Kieran Alger

Self confessed Mr Average Runner and fitness tech expert, Kieran Alger has completed eight marathons since his first foray into the world of GPS trackers, fartleks and nipple tape. Now he's on a mission to see if what it takes to join the ultra running tribe.

The materials in this website are in no way intended to replace the professional medical care, advice, diagnosis or treatment of a doctor, qualified personal trainer, therapist, dietician or nutritionist